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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378505">A Thought Exercise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality'>evakuality</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Druck | SKAM (Germany)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#but not too much I think, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, a bit angsty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:15:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>David finds a new way to help Matteo work through the way he feels about himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matteo Florenzi/David Schreibner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Thought Exercise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s been tough lately to keep up a proper connection, to see Matteo as often as David would like.  Work and university have them both tied up in knots and there are just too few hours in the day.  So the time they do get to spend together is precious, held close to David’s chest and savoured.  The time is so precious, that David makes sure they spend it alone as often as he can.  And that, in hindsight, may be part of the problem.  That may be why he’s standing here staring at his boyfriend, incredulous about what he’s hearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David blinks, tries to process.  He’s still unsure where this is coming from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he says quietly, trying to inject as much sincerity into the words as he can.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo’s lips purse together, and a shiny film gathers on the edges of his eyes as he turns his head away, clearly trying to prevent David from seeing it.  Worried now, David reaches out, but pulls back when Matteo flinches away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” David says, “but I need you to understand the truth of how I feel about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging, Matteo looks back at David.  His lip is pulled in between his teeth and his face has an open vulnerability playing about his eyes which is also there in the curled-in body language and the tremble in his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we go anywhere?” Matteo blurts out, his fingers shaking even more as he drags his gaze away from David’s.  “We never go out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s almost more disconcerting than anything else this evening.  Matteo is more of a home body than a party animal; going out has never been something he wants to do.  David blinks again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to go out?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.  I mean, not really.  It’s just…” Matteo breaks off, his mouth twisting as he obviously tries to think his way through what to say, and his fingers catching the ends of the strings on his hoodie as he twirls them into tight knots on his knuckles.  “It’s just that you always want to just hide at home.”  He shrugs, and a quiver settles into his voice when he looks back at David.  “Are you ashamed of me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bizarre sense of incredulity ratchets up, and David can’t quite hold in the disbelieving snort that pops out at the words.  Then he’s forced to watch as Matteo’s face shutters completely, every trace of hope disappearing into a look of such betrayal that it stabs something dark and painful into David’s belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scrambling to reel it back in, he shakes his head.  “How can you ever think that?  I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something small and painful unfurls onto Matteo’s face as he shakes his head in clear disbelief, making David’s heart ache with the things it says about what’s going on in Matteo’s head.  As if to confirm the thought, Matteo twists away from David’s eyes, wrapping his arms around his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand why,” he whispers.  “There’s not a lot to love about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hoping he’ll give in to touch now, David tentatively reaches out, skimming his fingers along the bare expanse of one of Matteo’s arms and down to his hand.  He doesn’t twine their fingers together the way he usually does, but Matteo also doesn’t pull away so David takes that as a sign he can keep touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong,” David says.  Matteo opens his mouth to protest, the shimmer of tears washing back into his eyes, but David smiles gently and adds, “but I know you don’t believe me right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tugs on Matteo’s hand, pulls them in the direction of the couch, and doesn’t make any further suggestion until they’re settled there.  He doesn’t speak again, lets the tension seep out of Matteo’s body and feels the way it starts to slide, slumping into David’s, his head falling to rest heavily on his shoulder.  Once his breathing has settled, and the slight hitch in his low murmurs is fading, David lets his lips skim over Matteo’s hair.  It elicits a hum that’s maybe not quite content, but at least is acknowledging the connection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I felt like that too, you know?” David says quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like there’s nothing to love about me, like it’s impossible that you can.  That once you realise that, you’ll leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo’s fingers tighten in his own as if to negate that thought, and David smiles.  Even when he feels this way, Matteo is still so caring of others.  Of David.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to know how I got over that feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a small huff of laughter at that, barely there and barely amused, but enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to tell me anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” David agrees cheerfully.  “It was my film class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your film class?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo sounds interested despite himself and David rejoices.  Interest is better than whatever was going on in his head a few minutes ago.  So he settles in, fingers running small circles on Matteo’s hand, and smiles fondly in memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was this exercise we had to do.  Some asshole who thought he was being so smart, pushed back at the professor's comment that we should write what we know.  He said he wasn’t an evil overlord so how could he possibly ‘write what he knows’ about a character like that.  And she just stared him down for a minute, then smiled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shudders as he remembers that moment.  She’d been so clearly delighted, it was obvious that she’d been waiting for some guy to do exactly that.  She’d turned, and with studied nonchalance had sat down on the edge of the desk, swinging one leg as she examined the students in front of her.  David snorts a little as he remembers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She basically told us we could get inside a character’s head.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Any</span>
  </em>
  <span> character’s head.  And we all expected some sort of ‘imagine the scenario’ sort of thing.  But no.  She was much meaner than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That earns him a soft chuckle from Matteo, who looks a little better now.  His eyes are brighter and he’s not so curled in on himself.  David high fives himself internally and goes on with his story; as much as Matteo is clearly invested now, he still doesn’t appear keen to do any talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What we had to do was describe ourselves.  But not from our own point of view.  It had to be from the outside, and we had to describe ourselves as if we were in love with ourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound so hard,” Matteo says, his voice bemused, and David laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you could do it, could you?  Right now, you could describe yourself in loving terms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmmmm,” Matteo says, and it’s not clear if it's in agreement or not.  So David presses a kiss to his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hated it,” he says quietly, letting the sincerity bleed into his voice.  “I was all up in my head about how my body didn’t look right to me, how shitty it is that I run away all the time, how I’m unloveable and an asshole, and I don’t deserve anything good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s not true!” Matteo protests, sitting up a little to stare at David in obvious consternation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shrugs.  “That’s where my head was.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head as he thinks back to the exercise.  It had been hard to even start on how to talk about himself in that sort of way.  It had felt so unnatural, even trying to distance himself by starting with a third person attempt with </span>
  <em>
    <span>David is a young man who…</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles again, pats Matteo’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It took me a while, but I figured out in the end what I had to do.  I had to get into </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> head.  I had to think about what you see in me, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> like about me.  You’re the one who loves me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Matteo agrees, softly.  “There’s so much to you that I love.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kind of got there in the end,” David agrees.  “I worked out what you might say if you were asked the question.  That’s what the point was, obviously.  To get into someone else’s thought process, to make it seem natural.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm,” Matteo says, and this time it’s obviously agreement.  “But I don’t get what it has to do with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David grins.  He can hear the reluctance in Matteo’s voice, because as much as he’s protesting, he knows what David is going to suggest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slumping again, his mouth twisting up into an awkward pursed smudge, Matteo sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to start.  It’s not easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kissing him again, David snorts softly.  “Yeah I know.  I had to do it, remember.  Do you know how hard it was to say how sexy I am?”  He can feel the blush heating his cheeks, but it has the desired effect as Matteo lets out a small giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I think you’re sexy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you think I’m sexy.  You say it all the time, when we’re--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I get the picture,” Matteo says, pushing David in an approximation of their usual teasing behaviour.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s working, this thing David is doing, and he’s grateful.  He knows he’s going to have to revisit the ‘staying home’ thing, the way he craves Matteo all to himself, and the way that’s affected Matteo’s frame of mind.  But for now, this is more important.  Getting Matteo to see himself the way David does; that’s the priority.  The rest can wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” David says, pushing at Matteo until he’s sitting more upright and David can pull his legs over his own and look down into that beloved face.  “Now you try.  Think about yourself the way I think of you.  Remember, I love you and I’d never say some of the shit about you that you were trying with earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo rolls his eyes at that, but obligingly mimics zipping his mouth.  He settles back then, his hands resting on David’s on his leg, a slight tremble in the fingers the only reminder that this isn’t just some easy thought exercise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.  I guess… you like my hair?” he suggests, half questioning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” David agrees.  “What do I like about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smirking, Matteo taps his fingers with his own.  “Playing with it,” he says.  “You like that it’s silky, that it’s different to yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmmm,” David says, reaching out to ruffle it, and to feel that silkiness between his fingers.  “It’s so soft,” he purrs.  “Not like mine, this … this </span>
  <em>
    <span>stuff.” </span>
  </em>
  <span> He indicates the riot of curls on his own head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Matteo laughs, reaching out to feel David’s in his turn.  “Don’t diss this hair.  I happen to love it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.  That was one of the things I ended up with in my description,” David says quietly.  “You like that it has weight, that it feels solid between your fingers.  It grounds you, gives you something tangible to hang onto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo blinks at him.  “You came up with that?  That’s like poetry or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s heart swells a little at the compliment.  That’s one thing Matteo does so casually and so easily: lets David know how smart and creative he finds him.  He needs to find a way to get Matteo to admit that to himself as well.  There’s so much David loves about him, and part of him thrills that he gets to explore it in this way, together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, mr. poet, now it’s your turn.  What does yours do for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo swallows, reaches up to touch his own strands, ponders them as they run through his fingers.  “It’s a bit like water,” he says slowly after a minute.  “Like it can take you away with it.  Like you’re running away, but staying here at the same time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David smiles.  “See, this isn’t so hard, is it?”  He draws Matteo back into his body, wraps his arm around him, and murmurs into his shoulder.  “Now, you get to tell me how sexy you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo laughs, pushes back at him, his eyes much brighter and happier than they were at the start of this conversation.  “Asshole.  You set that one up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David doesn’t deny it.  He watches Matteo's face carefully as he thinks his way through what David might say about him.  It takes time, and it’s slow, but they have that time.  He settles in to listen as Matteo hesitantly works through the exercise, sees it working for Matteo the way it did for himself.  Sees the slow blooming of Matteo’s own self-love coming out one petal at a time.  He offers his own insights, in exchange for Matteo’s vulnerability as he does this.  He watches it all, and falls more in love.  Watches as Matteo does the same when David offers his insights into himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t start well today.  There’s so much still to unpack, so much they still need to talk about, but David can’t regret getting to this point.  He loves this boy, and there’s something so profound in watching that boy fall in love with himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” David says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matteo smiles.  “I know.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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